Body Counts and News Reports
by hollyhobbit101
Summary: The day after Voldemort returns, seven people die in Little Hangleton. An earthquake, they say.


**For the Houses Competition**

 **House: Ravenclaw**

 **Year: 5**

 **Category: Short**

 **Prompt: Earthquake**

 **Word count: 1519**

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It started with a few small bangs, quiet enough that Mary knew they hadn't come from inside her house, but loud enough that she got up from her chair to check outside. A peek out of the curtains told her that Little Hangleton was quiet, as it always was. There wasn't even someone wandering the streets; all was as it should be.

Mary laughed softly and shook her head. "Going senile already, Lawrence?" she said to herself, standing up straight and smoothing her skirt down. The noise had probably been the cats two doors down knocking over the bins, or maybe some kids playing about in that old Riddle house. Horrid place; Mary shivered just thinking about it.

She reached up to tug the curtains back in place, when suddenly movement on the street caught her eye. A figure wrapped in some sort of black cloak was stood on the pavement, so still that Mary wasn't entirely sure that it was a person at all. She leaned forward, trying to get a better look - she wasn't nosy, she swears - but, despite Mary almost having her nose shoved against the glass, the hood of the cloak completely covered the face.

She huffed and drew back, pouting slightly. She continued squinting suspiciously at the person and/or thing in front of her, hands on hips. As she watched, another bang sounded, louder this time, and the ground shook slightly, enough to make Mary stumble.

She steadied herself, heart pounding wildly in her chest. She glanced up at the mysterious figure again, and took a step back, gasping in shock. It had raised its head, and was now staring at her with piercing, blood-red eyes that seemed to bore through to her very soul. A part of her wanted to look away, but she found that she was transfixed, held in place by those crimson eyes. The figure's cloak shifted and a hand emerged, with what looked like a long, slender stick held delicately in pale fingers.

Mary watched in horror as the figure's lips moved soundlessly, and the ground began to shake in earnest, each second the tremors becoming stronger. She screamed and tried to hold onto the windowsill for balance, but everything was shaking so badly that she was knocked to the floor.

She managed to pull herself into a kneeling position, tears tracking down her cheeks as she saw the figure still stood outside, seemingly unperturbed by the earthquake. Suddenly, another bang sounded right above her head, and she looked up in terror to see her ceiling growing cracks. She whimpered, opening her mouth to cry out, but her shouts were cut off as the roof collapsed in on her.

The last thing Mary Lawrence saw before darkness claimed her were two bloody eyes and a snake-like smile.

* * *

' _...There have been reports of a major earthquake in Yorkshire, centred around the Muggle village of Little Hangleton. So far, there have been seven confirmed dead, and an as yet unknown number injured, all of whom are Muggles. The latest victim has been locally identified as Mary Lawrence, 53. It is thought that both figures are set to rise as the rescue efforts continue._

 _Early reports from the Ministry suggest that the earthquake was magical in nature, as it, despite it's large scale, seemed to only affect the area within a two-mile radius of the village. Aurors and workers from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, particularly those of the Muggle Liaison Office, are on scene, working to assess the situation._

 _More updates to follow.'_

Harry sighed in frustration as he switched off the radio in the common room. It had only been a day since the graveyard and Cedric and Voldemort, but already there had been half a dozen reports of magic related 'incidents', the earthquake in Little Hangleton being the latest. And yet, still the Ministry were insisting on ignoring the fact that Voldemort was truly back.

He huffed and slumped back in his seat, folding his arms and glaring at nothing in particular. Idiots, the lot of them.

Ron and Hermione looked up, exchanging a private glance, exactly the same as those they'd been sharing for the past few months. The ones that said 'poor Harry, what should we do with him?'

Harry hated those glances. He hated being pitied.

"Prophet's no better, mate," Ron said from where he was sat, the most recent issue of _The_ _Daily Prophet_ folded on his lap. He was probably trying to be reassuring, but, whatever his intentions, it had the exact opposite effect.

Harry's scowl deepend as he looked over, silently watching the picture on the newspaper's front cover move. He thought it was of that village mentioned on the radio, Little Hangleton, he remembered - he could see houses with their roofs caved-in from the earthquake. A tile began to slide down from one of them, then fell into a hole where the ceiling had collapsed. Harry looked away and pressed his hands to his eyes, growling in anger.

"How can they not see it?" he demanded, looking up at Ron and Hermione. "How? I don't get it; how many so-called 'incidents' have there been now? Six? Seven? More? I've lost count. Do they even care that all these people are dead?"

The two of them glanced at each other in alarm, then looked over to Harry, their expressions morphing into something like sympathy.

"Harry," Hermione started. "You've got to understand. They _want_ to believe that these are just isolated incidents, that they're done by some random, easily caught wizard. They already lived through You Know Who's terrors once - do you think they want to realise it's happening all over again?

Harry hummed in acknowledgement, refusing to meet her eyes. He knew that what she said made sense, but that didn't mean the Ministry's pig-headedness was any more excusable. If anything, he thought that made it _less_ excusable.

"Yeah, mate," Ron chimed in. "I mean, you come back clinging to a dead body, claiming that You Know Who's back, but you can't prove it because no one else saw it. Would you believe it, if you were them?"

Harry did look up then, suddenly furious at Ron. "I thought you guys were on my side with this," he challenged, half-rising in his seat.

Ron shifted uncomfortably, startled at Harry's outburst. "We are, it's just -" Ron began, but he was cut off by Hermione smacking him on the arm and shushing him loudly.

"What _Ronald_ is trying to say, Harry," she said, glancing at Ron disapprovingly, "is that _of course_ we believe you, but you have to expect - _and understand_ \- that lots of other people won't."

"Fine, but we don't have time for people not believing me," Harry argued. "Look what's happening, Hermione - fires without identifiable causes, random 'gas' explosions in the streets, and now _this_. I mean, that's an entire village whose homes are destroyed. Most of them are probably dead, and the rest injured, all because _he's back_ , and he decided to set off an earthquake in a quiet, innocent village, because what? He felt like it? And there's going to be more 'incidents', Hermione, you know there is."

Hermione nodded in sympathy. "I know, Harry, but-"

"But what? This can't-" Harry closed his eyes and sighed, shaking his head. "We have to stop him," he finished, voice almost a whisper.

"I know. I don't want there to be more earthquakes or something like that anymore than you do, Harry, but we have to be patient. Besides, he's only just come back - he's probably still a little weak from the strain of all those years after you defeated him the first time."

Harry snorted derisively. "Causing an earthquake that killed seven people, probably more, doesn't seem like week to me, Hermione," he pointed out.

"Well, no, but look at it this way - if You Know Who had been at his full strength, do you think he would have stopped at an earthquake? He probably would have just levelled the village."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Hermione Granger, ever the optimist," he said wryly.

Hermione scowled a little. "Would you like to back me up, Ronald?" she asked, throwing at pointed look over at Ron.

Ron looked surprised, and glanced at Hermione as if to say ' _Me?'_

She just stared at him challengingly, and eventually he relented, sighing and turning back towards Harry.

"Hermione's right, mate. I mean, she's going about it in a funny way, but she's right. Earthquakes, fires, stuff like that - he's just warming up. Or whatever."

Harry barked a harsh laugh and shook his head, but he knew that his friend's were right. However much he may hate it, the Ministry weren't going to come to their senses just because of an earthquake in some small, unimportant little village in the middle of nowhere. He'd have to wait. Let Voldemort play his games, let him begin his conquest for power, until there was undeniable evidence that he was truly back.

Then, they'd have to believe Harry. Then, they'd be able to stop Voldemort, once and for all.

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 **I hope you enjoyed that! Thanks for reading, and please leave a review if you have a moment!**


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